The Audience: Bi Duo From FL Finale

Monica was embarrassed.

"I can't help it," she messaged about her newfound addiction.

Three months had passed since that weekend they'd flown to Virginia. Monica texted me two days after they left to tell me the two of them had formed a love for caramel popcorn.

"You've got us eating it in bed," she added.

Their time in Virginia consisted of more than the two of them opening their legs. I took them on the street, hanging on Colley Avenue one evening, to Colonial Williamsburg the next. A buddy of mine owned a mini yacht, and I set it up for us to sail from Portsmouth City Park, to the Great Bridge Locks down the Intracoastal Waterway. Events happened surrounding our times of making each other cum, for I ensured endless fun, and exposure for the couple that knew nothing of the great Mid-Atlantic region. I even introduced them to fried crabs, getting them out of their bourgeois way of living to experience Blue Ocean Seafood, a hole-in-the-wall in Norfolk that was widely regarded one of the best seafood spots around.

"We're hooked on you," Pete added as the two of them were munching on popcorn.

I did more than revive their sex life: I showed them how to have fun. That weekend I might've nailed Pete and Monica at least twice a piece, and they credited me with causing their most intense climaxes they'd ever experienced, on top of just enjoying life outside of its regular monotony.

"We need you to come to Tampa," Pete texted next. "I'm serious, we'll book your flight and you won't pay a dime for a thing."

I considered it, and looked at my work schedule before committing to a four-day stint down south. I'd never been to that part of Florida, and did a little research to learn that it wasn't much different than the Norfolk area.

"Maybe we could convince you to move here," he added.

It wasn't far-fetched, for I was looking for a new place to live as Virginia had pretty much ran its course.

I took off from work and hopped a Thursday morning flight that landed straight at Tampa International. Most passengers were clad in red, for the Buccaneers had a game, and most were heading to Raymond James to see them up close later that evening.

"Welcome to Tampa," said Pete as he met me at the airport.

He dressed like the natives, donning a Baker Mayfield jersey, blue jeans and flip flops to reflect the spirit of pro football amid the gorgeous weather. He grabbed my bag, and led me to their Jeep where he and I would engage in some tongue wrestling.

"I've missed you," he admitted as he openly kissed on me.

"Monica's at work, and I plan to make up for lost time since we've last seen you."

Pete claimed he and Monica hadn't been with anyone else since that weekend. I was honored, and allowed him to slip his right hand in my shorts to stroke me until I was hard.

"It's amazing how stiff that thing gets," he said to me.

Our tongues continued to clash after he admitted he had permission to do whatever.

He pulled his hand from my shorts and put it on the gear shift just as he turned the engine on. We left the lot, and he rushed to make it to their home so we could get down to business. I placed my hand in his crotch to see that he was bulging the same as me. The ride was short from the airport, approximately 15 minutes in a neighborhood called "Baycrest," which hovered over the nearby waterway. The neighborhood was lined with palm trees, green grass, and the river, canal, or whatever it was, which seemed damn near the same level as the ground of the houses. I was in awe of the landscape, from foreign cars everywhere to the sight of yachts parked on private piers. He pulled into the driveway of a large brick, ranch-style home and moved forward on a pretty paved driveway as he passed the house en route to the rear. There rested a cherry red Ford Raptor, as well as a cherry red Chevy Corvette that looked as if it was on a showroom floor. I looked in the distance and saw a mini yacht moored to a pier.

"That's Abby," he said of the craft.

"While you're here, perhaps we can take her for a spin."

Saying that Pete and Monica were rich was a disservice. These two were financially stacked, and sexual rendezvous with young, black studs was one of their pastimes, along with riding the boat. He cut the engine and led me into the house by walking up a few rear steps. He keyed the door, and we entered a massive cooking space that appeared to be the kitchen. This was where all hell would break loose, as I left my bag in the Jeep as he saw fit for us to go hot and heavy.

"We really missed you," he said as he came up to kiss me.

Our tongues collided again, and he undid my shorts while he undid his as we would quickly became naked below the belt. We pressed our bodies together, his oozing cock pressing into mine as we both tried to suck each other's faces. We broke up to take off our shirts, and I'd feel his hard nipples pressing against my chest as we went back to making out. We held each other as we kissed sloppily, the lust thick in the air and could only be cut with a machete. I then grabbed his arms, and our hands clasped as I pushed him backwards to stop at the kitchen counter.

"Get on top," I told him as he hopped on the surface, then lay on his back and raised his legs for me to rim his hot hole.

My hands ended up on his breasts, with my pulling at his nipples while my tongue was punching in and out of that hairy hole. Pete's moaning and squirming showed he hadn't been fucked since me. It was de ja vu with me fingering and devouring that "born again" hole, with me enjoying its sweet flavor as it pulled with each thrust.

"I can see you boys are already having fun," said Monica. "He thought I was coming late, and here I am."

"Seems like he needs to be punished," I said to her as she and I kissed.

She grabbed my stick, and I stopped kissing to check her out in her expensive fabrics. She put down her briefcase, took off her work jacket, then pulled down her skirt to reveal she was wearing no panties. She saw her husband in a vulnerable position and chose to add to his submission, relieving me of ass-eating duties while she laid her tongue on his hole. I was brick hard as I watched her husband whimper due to her tongue flickering efforts. She groaned and growled like a man, going berserk on her husband as she placed two fingers on his hole, and expanded it to the point of where it looked inside out. She licked it, blew cool air on it, and did everything she could to make him crazy. Pete held his legs in the air, grabbing his ankles as the tables had turned between them. I'd stand back with my dick in hand, ready to infiltrate the first able hole that was ready for war.

"Son, she's had a long, hard day," Pete told me as he wanted to see his wife get fucked.

I gave it another two or three minutes before I stepped behind Monica. I loved how she entered the room, and looked damn good in her work clothes before she took off that skirt. I got close enough and rubbed her fat ass, pushing my dick against her ass cheek while sliding a hand to the front of her crotch. I'd caress that fat pussy as it was dripping to the touch. She moaned and begged for me to dig her out as she needed a good fuck.

"Baby, be careful what you ask for," I said as my other hand slipped into her shirt.

I kissed her on her neck, and fondled her hardened nipples that were lactating slightly. She briefly stopped eating her husband as she took the time to enjoy my performance.

"You wanna gimme that pussy," I asked as she arched her ass up for me.

I smacked her ass a few times, then moved my hand from her tits as I focused on sliding this prick slowly into her soggy puss.

"Oh yes, yes, yes, yesssssssss," was what she uttered as I slowly slipped into his wife.

We both ended up moaning with me biting down on my bottom lip as I felt her warm fold accepting me. I grinded my hips slowly, slipping out, then forcing it back in to make her even more moist. She went back to pleasing Pete as she took the backshots, slipping a finger in his hole, and commenced sucking his fat cock while I pounded her from behind.

"Dirty bitches," I said to both of them as I talked dirty, and reminded them that no other dick amounted to what mine could.

"I can't believe you're here doing this to us," Pete barked as he was experiencing assgasms back to back.

I only banged Monica harder as she winced even louder despite cock nestled down her throat. Pete, too, was wailing as he was one who loved to have his prostate toyed with.

"Got damnit, honey," Pete growled as his face wrinkled from yet another orgasm.

I looked down and saw a red face, Pete, who was having fun while Monica was hanging on to dear life. The poor BBW was getting her sweet pussy beaten properly, the black dick doing its job to make her life that much more pleasurable. I gripped that ass and heaved the dick harder as she was squealing with delight. My efforts caused her to work Pete harder, and Pete in turn was wailing as he blasted off in his wife's mouth. She, of course, swallowed every bit even though she couldn't stop moaning. He moved away from her once he finished, and she'd admit that she couldn't stop coming from me, gutting her out.

"You can cum all day," I told her as I kept torching her hips. "But first, you gotta let me hit it in the 'x.'"

"The 'x'?" she asked, as she knew exactly what I meant.

The vaunted "x" was the ass hole, and it was something I experienced from her during their visit to Virginia. I stopped the action, and demanded we take it in the living room as I had a new position.

"I sit down, she rides, and you lick these balls," I told Pete.

"Got a better idea," Pete said before leading us in the living room.

He demanded that Monica grab her ankles to allow for her ass to be exposed. He knew I wanted to pound her from behind, and he would position himself to join in, and not be left out.

"You ready to fuck that fat ass?" Pete asked as we set things up.

The nimble Monica did what was asked of her, and she was rewarded with two men working her over together at the same time. I got the chance to plug that tight ass hole, punching in and out while Pete sat under her to suck her pussy from the front. He was at the bottom, resting comfortably under her fat pad while managing to gently stroke my balls from where he sat. Monica couldn't stop crying in ecstasy as the two of us teamed up to do some nasty work. I was pounding it hard, and she was Pete's cum fountain as she continuously jizzed in her husband's mouth.

"I love this sweet pussy," he said as he sucked her clit.

She couldn't keep quiet as she was having the time of her life. I kept fucking until I couldn't anymore, and pulled back with Pete catching on to me getting ready to cum. He pushed unattached from Monica's snatch, and wiggled closer to me as I jacked off. He put his left hand on my balls, and pushed them upward until I was whimpering and blasting my sweet syrup onto the cup of his waiting tongue. He kept his mouth open to receive it all, then closed it on my tip as he squeezed the remains out of me. He, of course, swallowed and burped as a show of confirmation that he ingested every bit of my cum.

"You're a greedy bastard," she said.

"That I am, love," he replied as she moved in to give him a kiss.

"So I guess to say two things are true," Monica asked later. "You fuck how you write, and you've got us addicted to caramel popcorn."

Both turned out to be true, but another thing that wasn't mentioned was the fact that they were addicted to me, too.